A Brief History of Komachi Onozuka, Ferrywoman of Higan
by Mimic Teruyo
Summary: Upon receiving a rare request to talk about her life, Komachi decides to take a quick stroll on memory lane. Or, at least, to try to come up with a decent narrative.
1. The Request

What, you want to know how I ended up working for the Ministry? As in, you're asking me to tell you about my past? That's not how it usually floats here, you know. I'm in charge of this vessel, so I get to decide who does the talking, and on a long trip like this, I'd rather hear the story of your life than yammer on about mine.

Yeah, it's gonna take a while. You really hit the ground running and never stopped, huh? Don't get me wrong, it's usually for the best. It's better to live fully and do good to balance out your sins instead of just trying to sin as little as possible. When you're too careful, you always end up with a whole bunch of karma and not enough good deeds to compensate for it. Okay, it looks like you forgot the "good deeds" -part, but at least you got it half right. Next time's the charm, eh?

Yeah, you'll probably go to Hell. Don't sweat it too much. It's not like it's eternal. And what with the budget cuts and all, they can barely get a good torture session going on over there these days. Broken tools and alcohol deficiency equal lazy oni, you know?

Forget I said that.

Eh? You still want to hear my story? Geez, you're a persistent one, huh? Think it's something grand and exciting, do you? Hate to break it to you, but it's not that fascinating. I've basically been married to the River Sanzu my whole life, right? It's a lot of mist and working the oar and not much else.

Well, sure, I'm pretty old, but you'll find older youkai than me in Gensokyo just by throwing a rock in the bushes. Really, try doing that the next time you go there. It's sure to liven up your day. And yeah, I've seen and heard my share of cool stuff, but that doesn't mean my life before the Ministry is really worth talking about. You can get better yarns about those times out of almost anyone, if warring samurai and dead peasants and youkai pouncing on the lot of them are your cup of tea.

Mine's just the same old story as always, you know. You're born a youkai, or you live long enough to see yourself become a youkai. Those who stay human end up here.

That was a joke. Everyone comes here in the end. Everyone.

It's not so bad when you get used to the idea. Just go with the flow, that's what I always say. Just go with the flow.

Changing the topic's not working, huh? Fine. Let's make a deal. You tell me your story first, and then I'll tell you mine. Don't be disappointed when you find out it's not worth it. You can always make up a cool past for me afterwards, something that pushes all your buttons. That's the good thing about stories, right? You can change them around in your head as you please.

Get started on yours, then. How did you manage to accrue so much karma in so little time, exactly?

Don't worry if it gets long. We have plenty of time. I'll make sure of it.


	2. A History

Once upon a time, there was a footpath by a river that never ended.

Well, in truth, neither the footpath nor the river went on forever, but it felt like that to Komachi that day, with the sun boring own on her and the heavy burden on her back.

To be fair, the sun glared down on everything that day, from the yellow ground to the few spindly plants brave enough to rise from the parched land. The riverbanks were the only inviting part of the barren landscape, a veritable oasis; the water glittered like jewels, and the reeds and other plants growing in it were greener than anything for miles from it.

Komachi wiped sweat off her brow, catching a lock of errant black hair and tugging it behind her ear before adjusting the yoke on her shoulder. Hot or not, they needed to hurry, or else the fish she had caught earlier that morning would spoil. It would have been easier and faster to paddle up the river, but their old boat had sunk and a new one would cost money desperately needed for food and fuel, and so they walked.

At least the oar hadn't sunk with the rest. She now used it as a lop-sided yoke, balancing two baskets full of fish on her shoulder.

"Sis, I'm hungry." Her little brother tugged at the hem of her kosode. Ryosuke was tall for his age, all sinews and gangly limbs. He was a sweet boy when his stomach was full, but the arid summer and its meagre offerings had stretched his temper to a breaking point.

"You should have eaten your breakfast more patiently, then."

"I was hungry then, too!" He was always hungry, growing boy that he was.

"Sister..." Now it was her little sister pestering her, tugging at the other side.

Komachi sighed and forced herself to smile. "What is it?"

"My legs hurt."

Oyuki had been born in the dead of winter, abnormally quiet and still as a corpse. She had finally cried, much to the relief of everyone around her, but even years later, she was still tiny for her age. She wasn't meant for long walks in the sun, but what was Komachi to do when there was no-one to watch the children when she was gone?

"Okay, let's the a break," she said. She crouched and down carefully lowered the baskets onto the dirt. She turned towards her siblings.

What was she supposed to tell them? That if they weren't quiet, they wouldn't make it in time to sell the fish, and would have no food for tomorrow? That they needed to eat all they could, because the drought had destroyed most of the harvest and food prices would go up soon, and they might have to beg come winter? That if they didn't do as Komachi said, they would all die?

Instead, she smiled. "We'll do it like this. Ryosuke is a reliable big brother, so he'll take some of the fish to carry so I can carry Oyuki. And once we sell all these," she added as Ryosuke gave her a bemused look, "we'll buy all the rice we can carry and have a feast tonight."

With startling speed, Ryosuke began slamming fish from Komachi's baskets into his own back basket.

Komachi adjusted the weight of each basket for balance, then crouched down, winking at Oyuki. "Hop on."

Oyuki climbed at gingerly, wrapping her spindly arms around Komachi's neck. Komachi eased the yoke onto her left shoulder and stood up.

"Let's go, then!" she said brightly. "We can't stop to actually play, but walking goes faster if you sing." She began to hum.

"Let me pass, let me pass. What is this narrow pathway here?"

"It's the narrow pathway of the Tenjin shrine," Ryosuke joined in, with his earnest and powerful, but completely tone deaf voice.

"Please allow me to pass through." Komachi felt Oyuki mouthing the words against her neck with her.

"Those without good reason shall not pass."

"To celebrate this child's 7th birthday, I've come to dedicate my offering." Komachi smiled. Come to think of it, they really would be doing that for Oyuki in six months' time.

"Going in will be fine, fine, but returning will be—"

Ryosuke's voice petered out. His eyes were trained on the river.

Komachi slowed down. "What is it?"

Ryosuke pointed at the water.

Komachi squinted. Then, she saw it.

Wisps of red flowed down the river, like spider lily petals.

As they looked on, a large, dark lump floated past them. The red seemed to be flowing from it.

It was followed by a pale, wizened hand, torn off at the wrist. It bopped up and down in the current.

* * *

"Up you go," Komachi hooked her arm's underneath the corpse's armpits. Water had seeped through its clothes and bloated the body, but with enough effort Komachi was able to drag it to the riverbank.

Someone had to do it. Left alone, the bodies would poison the entire lake, and they would starve. After deciding to take the children home first just in case, there had been little enough to sell that day. She didn't want any more setbacks.

She didn't feel good leaving the children alone, even for a short while, but emergencies happened. Their hut was close enough to the lake for them to run over if something drastic happened, at least.

With one final pull, Komachi dragged the corpse all the way to the ground. It had been that of a man, presumably in his thirties, a bit on the stocky side, wearing little but a rough-hewn kosode and rusty armour. His features may have been handsome for all Komachi knew; it was difficult to tell with his face covered in gore and more importantly, half torn off by a brutal slash.

Holding her breath, she pushed the corpse's legs together and placed its hands together on its chest.

"Sorry buddy, but I have no money for the ferryman." she smiled ruefully, looking into the corpse's one remaining eye. "Maybe someone upriver will help you out."

She tied her errant sleeve back to its place and waded back in. Another seven corpses waited, and their stench wouldn't get any nicer with time.

Had it been just her, Komachi might have well let the bodies simmer in the lake for all eternity. So what if the water was ruined? She could take the road south and find out what lied beyond the village. It was warm enough to sleep outside, and there was always work for those willing to do it.

But she had Ryosuke and Oyuki. And so Komachi fished for corpses.

It wasn't right to resent children for things beyond their control, but sometimes...

Komachi shook her head. Easy come, easy go. Go with the flow.

The instant she clapped her eyes on the corpse nearest to her, rotating slowly with its face in the water, she knew something was wrong. She hastened to hook her hands under its arms to remove it from the water as quickly as possible.

She dropped the corpse on the bank. The blood covering her hands was so dark it was almost black.

She looked sombrely at the corpse of a youkai. It was the first she had ever seen, but there was no mistaking the yellow eyes and talon-like fingernails.

When her mother still lived, she had told Komachi stories her own mother had first told her: of times of war, with feuding shogunates, endless skirmishes, and peasants trampled underneath the warrior class. She would then hug Komachi and whisper how glad she was her children got to live during a time of peace.

Only, youkai didn't want peace.

She had heard what had happened while selling what few good fish remained. It had been impossible not to, with the town buzzing with fright. After several months of peace, not one but two youkai had emerged from the nearby woods. The two of them had clashed near the outskirts of the town, right by the river, taking with them all those who had been unfortunate enough to be tending the dried up fields and too slow to run. The two monsters had been equally matched in strength, and while one had emerged victorious, it had been critically wounded in the melee. The dead youkai had floated away with the current, while the wounded one had vanished like mist, no doubt lurking nearby waiting for its chance to attack. Komachi was rarely thankful to live so far from the village, but that day she was glad.

She instinctively brought her finger halfway to her mouth before she realised what she was doing. She quickly wiped her hand on the grass. Nothing good came from messing around with youkai blood: it either killed you or turned you into a youkai yourself.

She stood back up and was just about to step back into the river when a queer tingling sensation ran down her spine. Someone was watching her.

She looked around, trying not to appear spooked. She was greeted by nothing but the same bleak backdrop as before.

"Someone there?" she called out.

Perfect silence followed.

Komachi scrutinised her surroundings, feeling the tingling sensation grow in intensity. The silence was so profound it felt unnatural: Komachi came to the lake often and could tell the difference between its usual stillness and whatever was in the air then. It felt like someone was holding their breath, willing themselves to be as quiet as possible.

Even so, there was no-one visible, and no clear places to hide. The nearest trees were a good distance away, and the invisible gaze she had felt had come from a lot closer by.

Frowning, she checked the corpses she had dragged to the riverbank. As dead as dead could be.

Her siblings would have come straight to her, and Oyuki at least couldn't keep herself from giggling when trying to surprise someone. The nearest major road curved away from this particular bend of the river, and there were few travellers to begin with. And youkai... well, a youkai would have already ripped her throat open.

She shrugged and set back to work, but though she tried to ignore it, the tingling sensation of being watched didn't go away until the work was done and she slouched towards home, muscles sore and mind unsettled.

* * *

The following day, the footpath felt even longer.

Komachi grimaced and adjusted the oar. The way back was always less painful, with the majority of the burden gone, but her shoulders were so stiff from the effort of the previous day it hardly made a difference right then.

She glanced at her side and smiled. Oyuki had been on her best behaviour the whole day,  
happily playing with the temari their mother made her back when she lived, even when Komachi had taken a detour to alert the local temple where the corpses to be buried were.

Ryosuke, on the other hand...

"Ryosuke, quit sulking," Komachi eventually snapped. She had only slept a wink the night prior and the glaring sun had given her a mighty headache. She had no patience for pouting.

Ryosuke didn't quit sulking. "You promised we'd have a proper feast if we got the fish to the market on time to sell it all!"

"You know I couldn't help it yesterday."

Ryosuke grimaced. "What about today?"

"We got more than usual, didn't we?" The truth of it was, the morning's haul had been bad and the price of rice had gone further up, and so Komachi had been able to buy very little extra if she wanted to make ends meet. She had hoped Ryosuke would be old enough to understand. She had forgotten how difficult it was to fight against hunger when you were a child.

"It's not enough!" Suddenly, Ryosuke lurched over to snag the temari from Oyuki's hands and tossed it on the roadside.

Komachi counted to three in her mind. "Go get that back. Now."

Ryosuke gave her a defiant look, but as she glared back, he slouched his shoulders and marched to the shrubs. Oyuki reacted to the proceedings with little more than mute surprise.

Ryosuke straightened his back, the temari in hand. Then, he froze, staring back at where they had come from.

"What is it?" Komachi asked.

"I think I heard someone."

Komachi looked over her shoulder. The road was wide open, with nary a bug to be seen.

"Right." It was likely nothing, but still... "Let's keep going."

They walked in silence for the next several minutes, Ryosuke's grumbling forgotten.

Komachi tried to hasten their pace without making it obvious to the children. She was likely worried over nothing, anyway. The town had been as peaceful as any town could be after an attack the day before, and rumour had it the hurt youkai had lurched back into the woods. The sense of foreboding she felt may as well have been a holdover of the strange sensation of being watched while gathering the corpses.

She gave a start. Oyuki was tugging at her sleeve. "Sister..."

"What now?"

Oyuki turned her owlish eyes at the road behind them. "Someone's following us."

This time, Komachi too caught a strange shuffling sound, like someone dragging cloth over the dirt. She paused entirely, and heard heavy, pained breathing, with a strange, bestial trill.

Then, a bent figure emerged on the road from behind a slope on the road.

Oyuki leaned in closer. "It's someone hurt."

But Komachi had been the horns.

The youkai was a sorry sight. It half slouched, half crawled down the road. Its impossibly long, scraggly mane, and its tattered kosode, were both matted with blood, blood so dark it was almost black. A deep slash ran across its forehead, and its bare feet were black with dirt and gore. Even from a distance, it was clear the wounds cut deep. The work of another youkai, no doubt about it.

Komachi swallowed. Half dead or not, what really mattered was that the youkai was steadily approaching them, and could likely still easily slaughter them all.

"Get behind me. Now," she growled.

Oyuki sidled behind her without protest, her eyes wide. Ryosuke too kept silent as he followed, his eyes trailed on the approaching figure.

As quickly as she could, Komachi set the empty baskets on the ground and slid them off the oar.

"Ryosuke," she said in an undertone without turning her head. "Take Oyuki and run. Run as far as you can. Don't look back."

"Sis..." Komachi couldn't see Ryosuke hesitate, but she heard it loud and clear.

"I said go!" When Ryosuke still adamantly refused to budge, she raised her voice. "Go!"

That finally stirred Ryosuke. He took Oyuki's hand. Komachi could feel his eyes on the back of her neck for a moment longer, then, mercifully, heard the sound of two pairs of small feet quickly retreating down the path.

Where could they possibly run? Even injured, the youkai was crawling forward as fast as a normal human walked, and no amount of blood loss was enough to even the gap between the sheer strength of humans and youkai. Unless the youkai was satisfied after dealing with Komachi...

No. She couldn't think about that now. She had to concentrate on giving her siblings as much time as possible.

With that, Komachi focused her full attention on the youkai, now only six feet from her. Her blood curdled in her veins.

The youkai stilled. It breathed heavily, a throaty wheeze that dismissed any doubts Komachi had of it being on the cusp of death.

Then, it pounced.

Komachi didn't have time to raise the oar, didn't have time to brace herself, didn't have time to do anything but blink and the youkai was on her, its claws tearing into her shoulder and shredding through flesh and bone like they were paper. Pain pulsed through her entire body and before she knew it, she was falling, the oar sliding from her hands. She opened her mouth without being able to scream.

She smashed into the gravelly road, the impact feeling like a gentle kiss compared to the searing agony that burned through her torso.

Before she could move, before the red haze before her eyes evaporated, they youkai was on top of her. Iron filled her mouth as the youkai's black blood mingled with her red. She could do nothing, not even scream, as the youkai sunk its teeth into her torn shoulder.

Komachi closed her eyes, her blood thrumming in her ears.

She swallowed.

Her heart kept beating.

Then, just as quickly, the youkai spat the flesh in its mouth back out. Komachi opened her eyes, finding it surprisingly easy and her body shockingly intact.

The youkai gave Komachi a dazzled look that she vaguely took for disgusted, then rolled away from her and lurched ahead down the road.

Komachi blinked rapidly, unable to understand what had passed. The pain was gone — a dull ache remained where her shoulder had been spliced open. She found it sickeningly easy to keep breathing.

She had heard warriors sometimes, already teetering on the bank of river Sanzu, suddenly lost all sense of their wounds and kept fighting without fear until their bodies finally gave in. She was no warrior, but she had to assume this was the same thing.

She had take advantage of it. She sat up and looked around.

Ryosuke was now running at full tilt, and with pride, Komachi saw that he still dragged Oyuki with him. He was a good kid. Had been a good kid. Even from Komachi's skewed angle she could tell the youkai was rapidly gaining on the two of them. It was only a matter of time.

There was nothing Komachi could do about it.

The youkai's claws tore through Ryosuke's clothes and flesh with equal ease. He must have cried out, but Komachi heard nothing. He let go off Oyuki as he collapsed to the ground, setting off a cloud of dust where he fell. One swipe, and Oyuki joined him.

It was probably for the best Komachi couldn't hear what happened next.

She found herself standing upright again.

The oar was where she had dropped it. She crouched to reclaim it.

She approached gingerly, amazed by how much moving didn't hurt. It was all a dying dream, probably, but at least there she could do what she had desperately longed to.

The youkai didn't notice her approach. She raised the oar, and with a roar, smashed it against the youkai's skull.

The oar exploded into splinters

The youkai raised its head, slowly turning to face Komachi as it pushed itself back on its feet. It seemed unharmed by the strike, and its eyes shone with annoyance. Yet Komachi smelled something new: a hint of fear.

The youkai charged, but this time Komachi was prepared. Twisting her body sideways, she avoided the brunt of the impact, feeling the youkai's claws futilely scratching at her sleeve, then brought back her own fist, curled around what remained of the oar's handle, and slammed it against the youkai's blood-encrusted cheek.

The youkai let out a shallow gasp, almost like sigh. It blinked, and looked up at Komachi, distant, already departing. Then, it collapsed onto the ground. It moved no longer.

The profound calmness that had filled Komachi faded, but didn't vanish. She stared down at the dead creature at her feet, feeling nothing at the sight.

Her eyes drifted.

In a fair punching match, who wins, the human or the youkai?

Komachi dropped what remained of the oar and walked over to the two small corpses on the ground.

The youkai.

Komachi dropped down to her knees and cradled the bodies, one in each arm, like she hoped she could breathe new life into them by holding them close.

On some distant level, it was a release. That only made the loss bite deeper.

She shook her head, then froze. She had caught sight of her hair, unravelled from its binds during the struggle and now flowing loosely down her shoulders and across her brow. Gone was the black; her locks were now a deep rose colour.

With concerted effort, clutching the bodies close to her chest, she stood up and hauled herself to the river before dropping back onto her knees. The eyes that met hers on river's surface were crimson.

Komachi laughed, although none of it was funny. It all made sense then. Of course no human could defeat a youkai with their bare hands. She had been drenched in the creature's blood, after all. She might have even swallowed some of it.

She wrenched her gaze from her reflection and turned her back at the river, shutting her eyes.

* * *

When she next opened them, there was nothing but flowers.

Komachi blinked, momentarily forgetting her loss in her confusion. She looked around. Flowers surrounded her on three sides, stretching all the way to the horizon, in all colours of nature. Komachi recognised flowers usually blooming in early spring and at the end of summer, blossoming next to one another like all seasons were one.

She turned. The river was still there, only covered in mist so thick she could barely make out the bank they were on.

Before she had time to fully take stock of the situation, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

It was the same tingling presence she had felt the day before.

This time, her eyes stayed true: when she looked up, she saw a young man, neither handsome nor ugly, with smooth black hair and long blue robes. He stood on the riverbank only a few feet away, looking thoughtfully at Komachi and her siblings, his fingers idly playing with the scythe in his hands.

A shinigami, if there was an ounce of true to the stories. Komachi held the bodies closer.

"It's their time," said the shinigami. His voice was too deep for such a young face.

Komachi shook her head.

"It is," the shinigami continued gravely. "They are dead and must be ferried across the river. It's the natural order of things."

Komachi didn't doubt him. She shook her head nevertheless.

"Do I have to take them from you by force?" The shinigami's voice was calm, even a little bored.

"Try. What do you want with their bodies, anyway? Isn't it their souls..." Komachi's words petered out as she gave a closer at the bodies she held.

They were moving.

Her eyes widening, she looked on as the ghosts of her siblings straightened themselves out and gave hazy looks at their surroundings. They didn't seem to recognise Komachi, or to even notice her.

It was then that Komachi saw the rest of them. Amidst the flowers were hundreds of ghosts aimlessly floating about, like wisps of grey silk, all wearing the same dulled expression and staring at the colourful splendour at their feet without really seeing it.

"Oh." She then asked, already knowing the answer, "Where are we?"

"The river Sanzu." The shinigami leaned his scythe against his shoulder and held out his hand. "Will you give them to me now?"

In response, Komachi tightened her grip around the ghosts. They felt like lingering frost in her arms. "Am I dead too?"

"No." The shinigami sighed. "Nothing good will come from clinging onto them. You need to return to the lands of the living and move on with your life." From the way he recited the words, it was clear he had uttered them in the past, more than once.

Komachi sighed, too. Rationally, she knew the shinigami was right. What good did she expect to do attempting to hold ghosts back? She might as well have tried to grasp the mist clinging to the river. Ryosuke and Oyuki were dead and belonged to the other side, and yet...the thought of giving them up and handing them over to someone else after all that have happened made her shudder to the core.

The shinigami, to his credit, still hadn't made good of his threats to snatch her siblings. His brow was lightly knitted as he continued to stare at Komachi.

¨Hmm..." the shinigami placed his hand on his chin. "This is only a theoretical possibility, but... would you be fine with it if you were to do it yourself?"

Komachi looked up. "Huh?"

"If you can see the ghosts here as they are, you have the potential to become a shinigami yourself." The shinigami smiled faintly. "The Ministry of Right and Wrong could always use extra hands."

"And what does that actually mean?"

"Depends on the job. Helping in the court, ferrying souls across the river, separating souls from their physical bodies. The works. Whatever you're the most suited for."

Komachi smiled. She couldn't help it. The whole situation was simply absurd. Was the afterlife so desperate for workers they accosted any half viable people who came across their path, or was she just lucky? "And what if I don't want to?"

The shinigami shrugged. "You're free to walk away. This is a recruitment drive, not a conscription."

Komachi's smile faded. She looked at the ghosts in her arms.

She had no further responsibilities; that had ended at death. She had no more earthly obligations, nor lingering bonds to humanity. She was finally free to go where she pleased and do whatever she pleased, like a true force of nature. She had a brand new life as a youkai ahead of her.

Her smile returned, though with a hint of bitterness.

"And if I say yes?"

"If you're earnest about it, I'll relay the message to one of the enma. It's up to them if you're hired."

"And that's it?"

"Almost. Higan is a pure land, so you'll have to die and be reborn to be able to work there."

Komachi nodded. The prospect didn't seem too daunting. She had already died and been reborn once that day. "And Ryosuke and Oyuki?"

"The ghosts have to go to the other side. It's not a matter of argument."

"Heard you loud and clear." Komachi stared into the mists without truly seeing anything. "I think...it would be fine if I took them there myself."

The shinigami straightened up. "In that case, I'll go speak with the enma at once." He narrowed his eyes. "Stay put, alright? Youkai are mortal too, and causing a hassle here will come back at you."

"Don't worry about it. I'll wait. " Komachi saluted awkwardly, her arms still around her siblings.

The shinigami vanished into the mists.

Komachi stayed true to her word. She didn't move a muscle.

"Some day, huh?" She muttered under her breath.

She smiled at the ghosts of her siblings, still passively lying on her arms. They made no reaction.

"Right." It wasn't what she truly wanted to say, but her mind refused to supply the actual words. She felt stranger than she ever had, and couldn't tell if it was just her new youkai physique or the strain from the events of the day. Sick without nausea, weak without tiredness, empty without tears.

"At least now..." she eventually said as the silence stretched on, more to herself than the mute ghosts. "There's nothing to worry about. Just go with the flow." She had thought it'd be difficult to keep smiling, but she found she couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to. "You were both good kids, you really were. You'll be reincarnated as something really good, I know it. You'll never go hungry again." She chuckled. "So there's no reason to be sad."

She quickly wiped her eyes and beamed at the ghosts, as brightly as the sun hidden behind the mist had shone the day before.

They finally met her gaze, mutely, with hazy but faintly curious eyes.

Komachi laughed again, freely now. "I'm telling you, it's all fine." She looked away and stared at the river Sanzu, gently rocking the ghosts. "Go with the flow. Just go with the flow."


	3. The River

The bow of the Titanic hit the riverbank. Komachi placed her foot on land and brought the boat to a standstill.

"Last stop," she announced cheerfully.

The ghost bowed — a polite gesture for one with such deep karma — and floated off to join its brethren waiting for judgement on the flower fields of Higan.

Komachi smiled as she turned the boat around. It was funny how ghosts hardly ever had much of a reaction to seeing Higan; when Komachi had first witnessed the sea of endlessly blossoming flowers, it had taken her breath away. The sight had long since become mundane to her, but no less beautiful.

She straightened her back and waved after the ghost, not expecting a response. "Thanks for the story!"

"Stories again, Komachi?" a voice responded from her side.

"Eep." Komachi's back went ramrod straight on its own as she turned towards her boss. "I didn't extend the trip for it at all, I swear!"

"I know." Eiki was smiling. Komachi's shoulders relaxed. The smile didn't mean Komachi wouldn't be lectured at, but it did mean Eiki wasn't actually angry.

"It was a long trip by necessity, that's all," Komachi said, perhaps needlessly. Sometimes she felt safer piling on as many truths as possible.

"Indeed." Eiki's eyes flashed. "You should take heed, all the same. Listening to the tales of sinners with no particular goal in mind can lead one to sin in turn."

"I try to think of them as cautionary tales." It wasn't really a lie: she _did_ do so, even if it was only one aspect of it.

Eiki nodded. "As long as you don't allow it to interfere with your work."

"I won't," said Komachi earnestly. She didn't mean for anything to get in the way of her work. It tended to happen on its own when she fell into her own pace of working.

Eiki's peaceful smile remained intact, so Komachi felt safe continuing the conversation. "That ghost asked me about my past, too."

"Oh. That's not very common, is it?" When Komachi nodded, Eiki asked: "What did you tell them?"

"A story. I told 'em it was one beforehand, too."

"How did the ghost feel about it?"

"No comment. I should try coming up with a better one."

"You could try telling the truth of the matter, too."

Komachi leaned against her scythe and sighed, staring at the river mist. "Honestly, it's been so long I'm not sure I can remember the whole truth."

Eiki nodded gravely. "Indeed. It's possible to tell falsehoods without intending to out of mistake. It's not nearly as severe as intentional lies, but all the same..."

Eiki fell into a quiet pondering, and Komachi took the opportunity to reflect on the story she had told. There had been some truth to it; there had been a river, for one, as well as blood. The details were hazier: many had long since vanished into the vapour of river Sanzu.

"You know," she said out loud without really thinking about it, her eyes fixed on those calm waters. "All these years, and I still don't know where Sanzu flows."

Eiki gave her a puzzled look before her expression brightened. "Oh, that's right. Rivers elsewhere have destinations."

"Yeah." Komachi rarely ventured to ask about Eiki's life before she had joined the Ministry, but some things became clear on their own. Such like there was no river where Eiki had been born.

She scrutinised Eiki quietly.

Was it strange, she almost asked, when you first came across another river, one where the riverbanks were at a fixed distance from one another and the mist vanished when the sun rose? Was it strange like when I ferried my first souls across and realised the length of the journey was in my hands? Was it difficult, like getting used to the reflection that greeted me on the river's surface, or was it easy, like learning to listen to the stories ghosts told, and making up my own? Was it hard for you to abandon your old life and get used to the new, or did you go with the flow like I tried to?

Instead, she asked, "Did you mean to cross the river, Lady Eiki?"

When Eiki nodded, she grinned and gave a salute. "Komachi Onozuka at your service. I'll get you there at top speed, and I'll throw in a story, too. One of my own."

Stories weren't lies as long as they were identified as such, but Eiki quirked her eyebrow regardless. "I have no time for a long story."

"I'll make it a snappy one, Lady Eiki. I promise."

Eiki stepped gingerly on board the Titanic and sat in the bow, arranging her legs neatly. Komachi stepped in after her and raised her oar.

The enma rarely had time, so the questions she had could wait until the next time they went drinking. A brief history would do for now.

And so, as she sank the oar into the water, she began:

"Once upon a time, there was a river..."


End file.
